


Ruined Shirt

by prinanalogicality



Category: Thomas Sanders
Genre: M/M, Prince/Anxiety - Freeform, Prinxiety - Freeform, angry Anxiety, will be fluffy no worries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:21:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinanalogicality/pseuds/prinanalogicality
Summary: On my tumblr, prinanalogicality, I received a prompt from a drabble list. The prompt was: "Sorry isn't going to help when I kick your ass!" Morality accidentally messes up one of Anxiety's favorite things, and Anxiety gets upset. Roman steps in to diffuse the situation.





	Ruined Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> This can also be found on my tumblr of the same name, prinanalogicality. Feel free to check it out!

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!”

Anxiety’s voice reverberates throughout Thomas’s mind space, his brows pulled together in a furrow and his lips pulled back in an angry sneer.

Lying on the bed that he and Roman share is Anxiety’s favorite shirt of Roman’s - it fits his boyfriend’s broad shoulders well, has a loop on the shoulder and hip to keep the red sash in place (it really annoys Anxiety when it is constantly sliding around), and it was actually the shirt that Roman was wearing when he and Anxiety shared their first kiss. Anxiety is very sentimental and emotionally run, so, seeing the shirt absolutely covered in black eyeliner supercharges his anger.

“I didn’t know that - that your eye goop was in the chest pocket! I didn’t know it would get all over the shirt, I didn’t even know it was there!” Morality exclaims, standing in front of Anxiety, laundry basket empty and forgotten by his feet. All he tried to do was wash everyone’s clothes - that is what he normally does. He’s a great help around the house, as the father that is determined to take care of everyone. He only meant to clean Roman’s clothes, not ruin them. Several of his shirts were ruined, but Anxiety only seems to care about one in particular. He feels awful about what happened. He isn’t upset with Anxiety’s behavior, either. He knows how Anxiety’s emotions work.

“You should’ve, I don’t know. Checked the pockets, made sure it would be fine to wash. Now my favorite shirt is ruined, and it is all your fault.” Anxiety takes a step closer to where Morality stands, in which Morality lets out a nervous chuckle and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Anx?” A warm hand lands on the shoulder of the angered male, in which the tension in Anxiety’s body visibly relaxes as he turns to look at his boyfriend. Roman’s eyes are looking over the ruined shirt, in which he frowns before turning his gaze back to Anxiety.

“He ruined the shirt. Our shirt.” Anxiety grumbles, his ears flushing at the disappointed look on Roman’s face.

“I know you’re upset, but you cannot threaten someone, especially not Dad.” His hand moves up from Anxiety’s shoulder, skimming over his neck and fingertips ghosting on his jawline before carding through his hair, a tactic that he has learned calms the male down considerably when he is upset. “I was with Thomas, helping him plan his next video. I could hear you from there.”

Anxiety pouts slightly. He took Roman away from his work. “He should’ve checked the pocket-”

“Why would he? It is my shirt. He was just trying to help. He always checks your pockets, right, Morality?”

Morality nods and gives a thumbs up immediately. “Yep! I know he likes his makeups, so I always check. Wouldn’t want a black-tastrophe.” He laughs at his own little joke, picking up the empty laundry basket and balancing it on his hip.

Roman nods and offers Morality a small smile before glancing back to the brooding brunette before him, sighing. Ever the peace keeper, Roman tries to diffuse the situation. “I know how much you like that shirt. But you are in the wrong here, Love. Say you are sorry to Morality, please.” 

“No.”

“You need to apologize, Sunshine. You hurt his feelings, he’s only trying to be helpful. You would hate to do your own laundry, I know that.”

“No.”

“Anxiety. You need to turn around, apologize to Morality, and hug him. He doesn’t have some vendetta against you, he didn’t purposely ruin your favorite shirt of mine. I know you like to convince yourself people are against you, but this isn’t a case of that.”

With cheeks puffed out, Anxiety glares at Roman before reluctantly turning around, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Sorry.” He mumbles quietly, not even loud enough for Morality to hear, but Morality receives the sentiment all the same. He drops the laundry basket again to bound over, his arms wrapping around Anxiety.

“It’s all right, kiddo! I’ll get him lots of new shirts, and you can have more of your black stuff. Hissy fits are okay every once in a while.” Releasing Anxiety, Morality picks up his basket again. “Thanks for saving my life, Princey.” He grins as he makes his exit, skidding past Roman and Anxiety.

Anxiety doesn’t turn to face Roman again, in which his boyfriend steps forward, his arms winding themselves around the dark trait’s waist from behind in a hug. “Hey. It’s just a shirt, I can get a new one.”

“It’s not that - I mean, I do care about the shirt, but that’s not… the problem anymore.”

“Then what is it?”

“Do you think - do you think Dad is gonna be mad at me now? Upset? For yelling at him?”

Roman lets out a soft sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the shoulder of his lover. “You know Morality. He won’t be upset with you, I’m sure of it.”

With a small nod, Anxiety closes his eyes turns, leaning into Roman’s warm embrace, breathing in the rosey, masculine signature scent of his boyfriend. He’s lucky, having someone who accepts him the way he is, temper tantrums and all. He’s glad Roman arrived to calm him down before anything happened - he doubts he would have hit Morality, but Anxiety can’t help but to be afraid of himself sometimes.

But now, with Roman leading him to the bed for cuddle time, his worries seem to just melt away, even when the ruined shirt is moved from the bed to the floor in a crumpled heap.


End file.
